


Dream Makers

by msmerlin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Astoria's Weak, Cheating, F/F, Face Sitting, Fairest of the Rare's Sing Me A Rare 2019, Fan Soundtracks, Friendship/Love, Lesbian Sex, Lesbians, Love Confessions, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Pansy's Weak, Secret love, Sexual Content, Stupid Malfoy, Vaginal Fingering, Years long Romance, affair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-13 02:07:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20574677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msmerlin/pseuds/msmerlin
Summary: Pansy and Astoria's friendship crossed the line to lovers years ago—but familial obligation threatens to pull the witches apart. Pansy must choose between doing what is morally right and leave the secret relationship with the love of her life, or follow her heart and find happiness shrouded in secrecy and moonlight.





	Dream Makers

**Author's Note:**

> Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling, Bloomsbury, and Warner Bros. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> Song Prompt - MOON RIVER - AUDREY HEPBURN - BREAKFAST AT TIFFANY'S

Pansy's eyes traveled down the length of her lover's body, tracing the curves that made up the roadmap of Astoria's frame. Pansy had always been always too thin. A body without hips, a chest without an ample bosom. As a teenager, she'd hated her figure. She'd wished for a more womanly appeal—for a body like that of the witch who was laying beside her now..

But as time passed, she'd learned to love the lithe frame the gods had blessed her with. She'd learned how to accentuate the subtlety of her shape and, in the end, she highly doubted anyone really cared if she was only an A cup. Tits were tits, and when stripped bare, as long as _something_ was there, that's all that really mattered, right?

Besides, Astoria never seemed to mind.

No, the witch who lay sleeping—her womanly curves hidden underneath a white sheet that appeared nearly translucent in the winter's morning sun, lavished her body and had never once mentioned the way her hip bones stuck out just a little too much. Or the way her shoulders were too boney.

Astoria thought she was perfect. And the only reason Pansy knew was because she made sure to mention it—on more than one occasion over the course of their six year affair, or whatever the hell this was that flourished between them.

It wasn't exactly a relationship.

It never could be.

But it wasn't just a fling, now was it? Flings typically didn't last over half a decade. Whatever it was, all Pansy knew was that she didn't want it to end.

Pansy never felt as sexy as she did when she lay with Astoria. She rarely allowed anyone—let alone a wizard—touch her the way Astoria did, or see her naked—_exposed._ Every blemish and imperfection available for scrutiny. Yet despite her flaws, Astoria looked at her as she was Venus herself.

And Pansy certainly never felt as powerful as she did between Astoria's thighs, bringing her to climax again and again until the screams of her name turned into unintelligible cries. And at the end of the night, once they'd become lost in learning and revering each other's bodies, when their hearts beat as one, Pansy would wrap Astoria in her arms. She would cradle the witch against her, and an unspoken need to protect what was hers would wash over her. She was strong. She was powerful. She wasn't the timid witch she was told she needed to be. She was...Astoria's.

And perhaps that is precisely why this needed to end.

Because the days left that they could claim for just the two of them were rapidly disappearing.

Pansy pushed up on the mattress with her elbow, and dropped her chin into her palm as she watched Astoria sleep. The steady rise and fall of her ribs was hypnotizing. Pansy was tempted to wake her up and enjoy the morning the way only lovers tended to do—praying it wouldn't be their last, but knowing it was a possibility. But Astoria looked too peaceful. Gone was the worry that had been etched into her face from the months of planning her coming nuptials. Gone was the tension on her brow that appeared at the mere mention of her father and mother. Gone was the weight of what her union to the Malfoy heir brought—the expectations of offspring and the assumption of love.

Reaching out, Pansy brushed the brown curls back from Astoria's cheek, and the tips of her fingers moved across her witch's bottom lip before they traveled down her chin to trace the elegant column of her throat.

Pansy had selfishly begun to wish for more than this arrangement.

She couldn't place when it had happened—though it was likely somewhere around the two or three year mark, when it became obvious their telationship wasn't just about the sex—although the sex _was_ great. But her heart sung for the witch, and although they'd never spoken of it, it became clear Astoria felt the same.

But the dream of finding a future together was shattered two years ago.

Pansy would never forget that night. It was Christmas. Her parents were somewhere in the French Alps—or had it been the German Alps? Their exact location was inconsequential, because all that mattered was that she had the Hall to herself that evening.

She'd arranged for Astoria to come over after Christmas supper so they could celebrate the holiday's evening together.

Pansy had arranged the room herself, not ordering the house elf to assist because she wanted everything to be just so. She had even worn the lilac lingerie that Astoria liked so much. The night was supposed to be perfect.

But when Astoria burst through the Floo nearly two hours early, tears cascading down her cheeks, and a large sparkling diamond on her left hand—a symbolic gesture of Malfoy love and fidelity in the form of a shiny bauble that Pansy was all too fucking familiar with, she knew their time together was up. That was the first night that forced both of them to realise this little thing they had couldn't last.

That there was never going to be a _them_.

Pansy had tried to stay away.

She'd tried to respect Astoria and Draco's engagement. He was her ex, but still her friend. And Astoria was...well, she wanted Astoria to be happy, more than anything in the world.

She put on a brave face masked as apathy—as every good Parkinson does when subject to any sort of adversity, and she went to the dinner parties for the upper echelon of pureblood society and she sang praises for the happy couple.

And she did not sleep with Astoria.

Of course, that only lasted a month. Thirty bloody days until she'd Flooed directly to Astoria's room one night after she'd polished off a particularly delicious bottle of Pinot that she'd borrowed (see: stolen) from the Malfoy's cellar. Pansy was only supposed to confront her. Tell her how bloody unfair life was for keeping them apart.

But when she saw Astoria in her nightgown—Merlin, that pale gold nightgown. She'd never bloody forget it. The way it hung off her shoulders, draping her body in rich silk that felt nearly as soft as her skin. And her hair was down. The thick waves of honey brown beckoned her to dig her fingers in them, grab ahold of the soft locks and hold on tight. And of course, there was the hint of a pink to her cheeks. She was so bloody beautiful without even trying—it was almost unfair. Pansy never stood a chance that night. Not against the likes of someone as lovely as Astoria.

And so she gave in.

Pansy threw caution to the wind and let herself fall back into the routine of shagging her, and pretending that this unnamed relationship between them could proceed as normal—even with the looming expiration date.

Now here they were. Two months from the Greengrass-Malfoy wedding, and Pansy was no closer to being prepared to lose her. She knew that once Astoria was bound to Draco, there would be no room for her in her future. As the Malfoy bride, she would be expected to host dinner parties, participate in those bloody book clubs her mother and Narcissa attended, and Merlin knew she would be expected to pop out a few brats shortly after their union. After all, that was the whole bloody point of this thing, wasn't it? Sure, they claimed it was for love (which Pansy knew first hand it _was not_), and that combining the Greengrass and Malfoy houses would be most auspicious—or whatever other shite the Divination Witches claimed. But anyone with half a fucking brain knew the truth.

Astoria was expected to bare an heir. Preferably more than one, but a single living male would do. She would be expected to be the picture-perfect pureblood wife. She'd need to be on Draco's arm, smile pretty for the cameras and raise their brood in accordance with the old customs. Astoria would need to follow a set of arbitary rules established by a bunch of old bitty's long ago to play the part—which, no surprise, did _not_ include taking a lesbian lover on the side.

Pansy and Astoria never actually spoke of ending their affair, but the writing was on the walls.

Two months.

Pansy had two months' time left with the witch in her bed.

Time where Pansy could pretend there was no engagement ring sitting on her nightstand, waiting for Astoria to slip back onto her finger before she returned home.

Time where they could get lost beneath the sheets.

Time where they could dream of a make-believe life together, as they often did at the end of the day. A life where they could live in that little cottage in the French Riviera, and summer in Ibiza. One where they could be together with no fear of judgement or familial obligations.

Biting her bottom lip, Pansy pushed the rising tide of anxiety that swelled in her chest each time she thought of their end back into the darkest parts of her heart. There she could forget about it, a temporary reprieve to a much larger issue.

She wasn't going to waste any time she had left with Astoria filled with dread and sorrow. She wouldn't—she couldn't.

Pansy ran her fingers over the cap of Astoria's shoulder before moving down her arm and over her hip to slowly pluck the silken sheet from the witch's body. She moved closer until her own body hovered inches from the sleeping witch's as she began to slowly, gently pull the sheet down, exposing more and more of the soft expanse of pale skin that covered her lover's side.

Astoria stirred, rolling onto her back in her sleep, her arms lifted to rest lifelessly against the pillow beside her head and Pansy nearly let out a groan at the sight of her bared breasts.

Her nipples pebbled in the cold morning air, hardening to tight pink peaks that beckoned Pansy to sample them, but she refrained. Instead, Pansy scooted closer until Astoria's side pressed against her front and she splayed her hand across the witch's stomach, fingers caressing the soft skin as she leaned in to press gentle kisses against her temple and jaw.

"Good morning, Petal." Pansy purred, nose nudging against Astoria's jaw as she moved down to her neck, humming softly against her skin as her fingers began to tickle their way lower across her abdomen.

"Morning, Flower." Astoria returned, her voice gravely and thick with sleep, but there was a lining of breathiness to her words that spurred Pansy's hand lower until her fingers brushed through the tidy patch of clipped curls between her lover's thighs.

Pansy nuzzled at her throat when Astoria's breath hitched and she nipped gently at her collarbone. "Time?" Pansy's question was a single word, but she knew Astoria would undoubtedly know it's meaning. How much time did they have left? How much longer could they sneak these moments away? In the morning afterglow of their secret nights, it was one of the first things Pansy always asked, wanting to know how long she could drag out their play before Astoria would need to run off and return to a life of obligation, while Pansy fell into the roll of dreadfully single heir to the Parkinson throne.

"Noon." Astoria bent her legs at the knee and spread her legs wide until the sheet stretched taut between her knees. The silent encouragement and promise of at least three more hours as all Pansy needed.

Slipping beneath the sheet, Pansy positioned herself quickly between Astoria's thighs and her hands brushed up her legs in soft strokes as she settled herself on her stomach. She hooked the witch's legs over her shoulders before she parted her labia to expose the pretty pink of Astoria's awaiting pussy.

Pansy could vaguely remember the first time she'd gone down on the witch. At the time she was so bloody nervous, never having done anything remotely that risqué with a woman before. She'd barely liked to look at her own bits in a hand mirror, and the idea of being that intimate with someone else's body had seemed so foreign. But it wasn't until she was down there, between Astoria's thighs that she realized how fucking beautiful the witch was even _there._

It should be illegal to be that bloody beautiful and taste so damn good, but Pansy wasn't about to turn the witch into the authorities—especially not when she said such nice things.

"Petal…please."

With one hand holding her open, Pansy lowered her mouth to Astoria's glistening cunt and let her tongue lap gently against her clit. Swirling, flicking and sliding across the witch's cunt in just the precise way she knew her lover liked. Pansy's other hand moved to join her mouth, gently stroking against her opening, teasing her until the moans that tumbled from Astoria's mouth turned to pleas for release.

They'd done this song and dance for Merlin knows how many times now, but Pansy wasn't sure she would ever grow tired of Astoria. The small gasp her witch made when she sunk two fingers into her aching cunt, the way her hips would rock against her mouth, the feeling of Astoria's fingers in her hair, clutching and curling into her locks as she held on while Pansy drove her directly to the edge of oblivion before sending her over with a quick curl of her fingers and flick of her clit.

She could feel Astoria's cunt spasm around her fingers, and still Pansy continued, helping her ride the wave of her orgasm until the pull on her hair became unbearable and Pansy allowed the witch to drag her up until Astoria could kiss her the way she often did after climaxing.

Like Pansy was the air she needed to breath.

Astoria clung to her, tongue plunging in her mouth to taste herself on her lover's tongue. Pansy knew the effect the heady combination had on her, how it would drive her for more, and Pansy was only too happy to comply.

But this time, instead of guiding Pansy's hand between her legs, Astoria's hands found Pansy's hips and she began to tug them upward while she tried to snake her body down.

"W-what are you doing?" Pansy breathed, her brow knitting as she pushed up on the mattress, her thighs parting to allow the other witch to slip lower.

Astoria glanced up, hazel eyes half-lidded and glassy from the aftereffects of her orgasm, but there was something else. A distinct sparkle of mischief that nearly stole the breath from her lungs.

"Shh…Don't think." Astoria whispered against the skin on her abdomen, her hands still tilting her hips until Pansy was forced up onto her knees, kneeling on the mattress as Astoria still sank lower and lower until…

Pansy jaw dropped, dark eyes wide as she watched Astoria prepare to return the favor. It wasn't that Astoria had never go down on her before, but certainly not from this position! But before Pansy could utter a single word in protest, the witch's mouth was wrapped around her mound, and that wicked little tongue slipped into her shaven cunt to begin delivering long, slow strokes across her clit.

Pansy used one hand to grip her headboard, painted nails curling into the soft wood as the other moved to slide through Astoria's hair, holding it back from her forehead as she spoke soft praises to the witch for encouragement.

She couldn't pull her eyes away from her. There was something about watching Astoria, catching glimpses of her pink tongue as she delivered toe curling pleasure to her that made the whole act even more erotic.

Pansy could feel her climax quickly climb—far faster than what she was accustomed to, and before she could prevent it, she felt her own hips rock against Astoria's eager mouth. The hand that had been petting her head clutched her hair to hold the witch in place as Pansy lost herself to the pleasure that Astoria was bestowing upon her.

Pansy saw stars—no, fucking _constellations_ as she climaxed.

Not normally so vocal, Pansy moaned, and mewled and sang Astoria's praises to the old gods that dared listen in on this private moment. And when she finally came down from the high to find the witch still between her legs, helping her ride out the last spasms of her orgasm with carefully delivered licks from her wickedly decadent tongue, Pansy halfway debated not stopping her and allowed herself just one more.

But her heart was too full.

And she feared if she did climax again, she wasn't going to let the witch go.

With a gentle push on Astoria's head, Pansy climbed off her lover on shaky legs, careful not to knee her in the process as she fell back on the bed, her chest heaving with breath, and her heart beating rapidly to keep up with the world around her.

"W-where…. did you?" Pansy questioned, panting through her question with raised brows as she watched Astoria crawl up beside her.

Astoria's tongue moved across her lips, as if to savour the last tastes of her lover from her mouth as she settled in beside Pansy, draping her body over the older witch's, so her chin rested against her sternum. "Wizard's Quarterly…_ways to please your witch_."

"You read that drivel?"

"Clearly it's not drivel." Astoria said with a small laugh, her eyes crinkling as her smile widened.

"I guess not." Pansy conceded, the corner of her mouth quirking up.

"But no, I don't subscribe…it was in Dr—"

Astoria caught herself a bit too late, the name already halfway off her tongue before she abruptly slammed her mouth shut. Before Pansy could prevent it, she felt her face fall, the happy afterglow that normally burned in her skin for hours froze and shriveled, like a frost-bitten flower.

"Oh…"

Astoria pressed her lips together, hazel eyes dropping from her gaze and she looked torn between bursting into tears and running from the room.

This wasn't new. Pansy knew who she spent her time with when they weren't together. But to hear his name—or half of his name, spoken so plainly was like a bucket of ice water thrown on the fire that was her soul.

Of course, Draco subscribed to such magazines.

Of course she'd read at the Manor.

The irony of the situation wasn't lost on her. That while Astoria was supposed to be spending time with her betrothed, she had been reading up on ways to pleasure her, but it didn't matter.

It didn't matter that it made the tiniest bit of pride swell in her. It didn't bloody matter because Astoria wasn't _hers._

She would never be hers.

She would always belong to someone else.

Biting her bottom lip to prevent herself from saying something she'd later regret, Pansy fought back the complex web of jealousy, betrayal and sorrow that spun like a spider's silk around her heart.

Two months.

She had two months until she had to give Astoria up. Two months to collect memories she would most certainly store in her private pensive. Ones she could relive over and over again until the end of time.

She couldn't waste any of those moments on spitting venom over her lover's fiancé.

Clearing her throat, Pansy gulped down the stone that had formed in her throat and she reached to tip up Astoria's chin so their eyes met once more and she forced a smile on her lips as she brushed her fingers into Astoria's thick locks.

"Tell me about the house in Nice, Petal."

The request was one she'd given countless times before. This was a game they had begun playing shortly after Astoria's engagement. Make believe ramblings from dreamers who longed to create a world together in a distant land that didn't believe marriage was only between a man and a woman. Where they could create a life together, and grow old with one another as a bonded couple.

Astoria's eyes flickered with recognition and she bit her bottom lip, the corners of her pretty pink lips lifting just slightly. "It'd have a purple door."

Pansy nodded as she wound Astoria's hair around her index finger. "Mmm, I suppose I could live with a purple door. As long as our balcony faced the ocean."

Astoria released a quick breath, her shoulders relaxing once more as she sank into Pansy's body, calming under her touch as the pair dreamt up a future that they both knew would never come.

* * *

_Two months later…_

Pansy had never hated anyone before in her life.

Until today.

Sure, she _disliked_ Granger. She wasn't Daphne's biggest fan, and she absolutely loathed the She-Weasel. But she never _hated_ them.

At least, not the way she absolutely hated Draco Malfoy—at least, for today.

She knew the day would be hard, watching the woman of her dreams walk down the aisle to be with another was never going to easy. But what she did not expect was to feel so bloody revolted by the whole affair.

Because the truth was, it was bloody perfect.

The wedding was exactly what her witch deserved. The floral arrangements were tastefully done, the linens clean and pressed, the string quartet well practiced and the colour scheme was classic without being dated. Everything was as it should be—except for who awaited Astoria at the end of the aisle.

Pansy played her part well though. Void of emotion. Ever the picture of pureblood ambivalence. She sat stoically beside her parents, pretending to not be bothered by the sight of the binding spell, and the kiss.

Ugh. That bloody kiss.

It wasn't necessary for Draco to sweep her back like that. She knew for a fact Astoria was not a fan of excessive displays in public. She would have never done that to her. She would have never made her uncomfortable. Especially on her wedding day.

But none of it mattered now.

The deed was done.

Astoria was no longer hers—not that she ever had been.

Astoria was a Malfoy.

Pansy's eyes tracked the _happy_ couple across the room, a manicured fingernail tapped impatiently against the champagne flute she held. Her painted lips pressed into a thin line and a jolt of jealousy ran down her spine as she watched Draco's hand press against Astoria's lower back as he guided her around the dance floor as they shared their first dance as bride and groom.

"Fucking tosser," Pansy sneered, dark brown eyes rolling away from the couple just before she could witness Draco press a kiss against Astoria's lips. She'd seen more than enough of their affections to last her a lifetime. Reaching down, she tipped the contents of her glass into the potted fern she stood beside, it's soil already damp from the four other glasses she'd discarded in the same manner throughout the evening. She wasn't feeling much in the mood to drink tonight, but turning down a celebratory glass of champagne would have been in bad form, so when fresh ones arrived on the trays of little tuxedoed house elves, she exchanged them only to pour them out moments later.

Some part of her felt badly for wasting such fine spirits, but another part couldn't help but feel rather smug knowing that Draco's family coin was going toward watering the plants with expensive champagne.

Setting the flute down on the edge of the pot, Pansy made sure it wasn't going to fall to the floor before she began back towards her table, working through the crowd of old blood and newly formed allies the Malfoys had made post-war. The black silk of her gown dragged across the floor, creating a billow of fabric behind her with each purposeful step she took.

The clock had barely stuck eight, but Pansy didn't care. She could take the tongue lashing from her mother tomorrow regarding her early departure. She simply couldn't stay to celebrate this farce a moment longer.

Picking up the small silver clutch from beside her place setting, she put her nameplate face down before turning from the table. She felt eyes on her as she made her way towards the ballroom's exit, her heels snapping loudly with each step she took, as if adding to her resolve to get the hell out. She knew what they were thinking—that she was upset over losing Draco. That she was jealous of Astoria. It would only make sense because for years it was foretold she would have been his bride.

But if they only knew that it was the blond wizard she was envious of instead, they might not pity her.

They'd likely clutch their proverbial pearls and demand she get examined at St. Mungo's.

After all, Good little pureblood girls didn't have feelings for other good little pureblood girls.

As she drew closer to the exit, Pansy could make out Astoria and Draco standing in the middle of the dance floor, the string quartet's melody fading out as the couple shared a kiss that marked the end of their dance, and her breath caught in her throat. The emotions she had bottled up all day were threatening to overflow. It should be her out there with Astoria. It should be _her_ lips against Astoria's. But life wasn't fair. It never had been, and likely never would be. She'd allowed herself to dream of a way out for both of them for so long that she'd lost sight of just how fucking miserable their reality actually was.

Pansy took in a stuttered breath, her pace increasing as she drew closer to the exit. She couldn't cry. Not here. Not in front of everyone. She needed to get home and hide in her room. Only then, once the wards were in place and she was safe from prying eyes would she allow herself to succumb to sorrow.

The click of her heels was the only sound she could make out over the sound of her heartbeat as she fled down the hallway, moving deeper into the Manor she'd spent so much time in as a young girl. She knew every hallway, room, and secret chamber that lay in this home. She knew the room Draco would carry Astoria back to and claim to have taken her_ maidenhood_—or rather, think he was claiming it. She knew the exact colour of the curtains that lined his window, an awful gray with blue threading. She knew that his bathroom's tap ran just slightly too hot for comfort, and finding that perfect setting was near impossible.

But she also knew that Draco would take care of Astoria. That he would love her like she deserved. That he would change the curtains upon request, and he'd set the tap for her until the water didn't burn her beautiful skin. And with the knowledge that their marriage was likely to not be unhappy made the pain of losing Astoria worse.

Pansy wanted to hate Draco for stealing her away. For taking away the one bloody thing on this earth that made her happy, but she simply couldn't. Even despite being so bloody pissed off about him stealing her away. He was a good friend. A much better one to her than she'd been to him over the past two years.

She'd nearly made it to the end of the hallway, the large double doors on the opposite end of the foyer just in view. She was seconds away from being able to let go of pent up anger and sadness inside her that swirled until its maelstrom ate at her soul.

"Pansy!"

Pansy slammed her eyes closed at the call, her hands curled into fists at her side.

"Pansy! Wait!"

From behind her, the hurried sound of heels snapping against the marble flooring echoed down to her. The steps drew closer and closer, but Pansy didn't move. She pressed her rouged lips together in a thin line as she tried to school her emotions, so she didn't let the blushing bride know how much pain attending her wedding was causing.

Pansy felt a hand curl around her arm, and a jolt of electricity ran from the spot where their skin touched all the way to her heart. Pansy tried to gulp down the rapidly forming lump in her throat, but found it near impossible to breathe, let alone swallow.

"This way." Astoria whispered, tugging on her arm as she moved down the hallway.

Pansy's feet complied despite the little voice inside her head that screamed no good would come from this. The pair moved further down the hallway, past the formal guest rooms and powder room, straight into Lucius' sitting room.

Pansy only dared to look at Astoria once they were both safely in the room, hidden from prying eyes and judgmental minds. She was beautiful. An absolute picture of pureblood bridal beauty. Her hair curled just so, a light layer of make-up accenting her too-big hazel eyes that Pansy loved to lose herself in. Her lips painted virginal pink. As much as Pansy wanted to appreciate the work of art that Astoria looked like in her bridal gown, it was hard to ignore that the look was not for her benefit.

No.

It was for Draco.

Astoria's husband.

Pansy's ex.

"What do you want?" Pansy's words were lined with a distinct crispness that she had never used on her lover before. Her arms crossed over her bust, and the golden bangles that ran up her arm jingled like a broken wind chime with her movement.

Astoria leaned back against the dark wooden door, her gown pooling around her feet, only her painted toes visible through the layers of lace that fell around her. "I just…It's—" she struggled to find her voice, eyes flickering to Pansy's before dropping to the clutch still tucked under her arm and she took in sharp inhale. "You're leaving."

"Very astute Astoria, any other stunning observations you want to make this evening?" Pansy snarked, dark eyes rolling toward the ceiling as her lips thinned into a hard line. She knew she wasn't being kind, but Merlin, she couldn't help it. Part of her wanted Astoria to hurt—for her to feel just a fraction of the pain that she was dealing with.

Astoria's pretty lips pulled down in a frown that stuttered her heart. Pansy fought the immediate urge to apologise, instead biting the inside of her cheek. She wanted her to hurt, but seeing the ramifications of her barbed words was not something she was prepared for.

"Don't do that." Astoria said with a small shake of her head.

"Do what?" Pansy lifted a manicured brow, her black fingernail tapping against her bicep.

"That," Astoria said with a gesture towards her. "You don't have to be so nasty, Pans. I was just surprised is all."

"You certainly didn't mind my attitude it when it was directed elsewhere."

"No, I've always minded, I just choose to not fight with you every time you did it."

Pansy jaw set and she bit her tongue to keep another barb from being hurled across the sitting room. How could Astoria be so bloody blind? Did she really expect her to be happy about this whole affair? They'd literally spent that past two years avoiding the topic of her wedding! Pansy declined the bloody invite to be in her bridal party, she thought she'd been perfectly bloody clear about her feelings regarding the event.

"I really don't want a bloody lecture right now, Astoria. Especially from you." Pansy lifted her hand to brush some of her bob behind her ear, the diamonds on her fingers creating a rainbow pattern across her skin from the soft light as she shifted from one hip to the other. "What are you evening doing here? Shouldn't you be playing dutiful bride?"

"Oh Circe." Astoria reached up, her fingers primping some of the brunette curls that hung around her face as she pursed her lips to the corner of her mouth. "If you don't want me to say anything, then you should stop acting like a petulant child."

"I'm acting like a child? It's your bloody wedding and you've pulled me into a fucking study to do what exactly, Astoria?!" Pansy snapped. "Berate me because I'm bloody leaving? Tell me I can't leave because you haven't cut your bloody cake yet?"

"I…I don't know! Maybe?" Astoria dropped her hand to her side, her thumb fingering the band on her left hand nervously as she tended to do when upset. "You're supposed to be my friend, Pansy. You can't duck out of my wedding because you're uncomfortable."

Friend.

_Friend._

The word sent the hairs on the back of Pansy's neck on end. It made her stomach twist into a knot, and added petrol to the burning fire of anger inside her until all she could do was focus on that simple little word. Friend. That was all she was to her? After six _fucking_ years. After countless nights lost in each other's embrace. After planning a make-believe future together that Pansy had begun to dream of, Astoria had the gall to call her a _friend_?!

"So you ride all of your friend's faces, do you?" Pansy questioned, cocking her head to the side as she clenched her hands at her waist, black nails digging into her palms. "You come crawling to their beds, begging for their touch? You lick their cunts like a good little girl too? Or was that reserved for just our _friendship,_ Petal?"

"Of course it was! But you should bloody well know the answer to that already." Astoria snapped, hazel eyes flashing with malice. The bride visibly bristled, her shoulder's squaring and Pansy could make out the thin band of muscle in her jaw as it flexed. "What we have is…is more than just shagging. But if that's the only reason you can't be here, then maybe I was misinterpreting our relationship."

"You think I'm upset because this means we can't be intimate anymore?" Pansy shook her head in disbelief and she turned her back to Astoria. She couldn't fucking look at her and not want to scream. This had never been about sex! Maybe that's how it had all started, but somewhere down the line it changed—her feelings changed. And she'd assumed Astoria understood that as well. She'd been far from secretive about the way she felt for her. Untucking her clutch from under her arm, Pansy tossed it on the mahogany desk before bracing herself against it, her hands curled around the edge so her nails bit into the aged wood.

"Yes…No? I don't bloody well know, Pansy!" Astoria said with a small stomp of her foot, her heel snapping against the marble floor loudly. "You refused to talk to me about it…and now we're here and…and…"

Pansy spun around to face her, her lips pressed into a thin line as she fought back the sudden rush of tears that swelled in her lower lids. "Don't you get it? Don't you see how bloody hard this is for me?"

Astoria didn't make a sound. Her bottom lip trembled as a slow trickle of tears began to leak from the corner of her eyes, cascading down her pinked cheeks and splashing against the lace bodice of her gown.

"I can't stay here _because_ of how I feel. You're so bloody beautiful. In your bespoke dress, fluttering around that damn ballroom. You look like a dream, Petal. _My_ dream. I've thought of you like this thousands of times before…imagined how beautiful you'd look in ivory, with _my_ ring on your finger. But—" Pansy's hand rushed to brush her own tears from her cheeks as she poured her heart out. The consequences be damned, she needed Astoria to know how much she cared. How much she loved every bit of her. Not just her body, but her soul.

"But you're on his arm. You're bound to Draco, Astoria. You'll never be mine, no matter how badly I want it. Don't you see how bloody hard this for me? To see someone I…I..lo—someone I care for so deeply be snatched away because of some daft fucking set of pureblood societal rules?"

"Pansy." Astoria tried to interrupt, taking half a step closer towards her. Her hands rested on her abdomen, smoothing nervously over the soft fabric.

"No!" Pansy lifted her index finger towards her lover, giving her a firm shake of her head. "No, Astoria. Just stop and listen! You cannot ask me to stay…it's not bloody _fair_. My heart is fucking shattering into a million tiny pieces watching you with him. You _cannot_ ask this of me because if you do…I'll fucking stay. I'll stay even if kills me because…because I can't tell you no—"

"Pansy, I love you!"

Pansy froze, her hand still lingering in the air between them as the words echoed in her mind.

She loved her.

Astoria _loved_ her.

She fucking felt the same.

It wasn't one sided. It wasn't just shagging. It was more. Perhaps it'd always been more, even from the very beginning.

And even though Pansy knew she shouldn't—for so many reasons, the least of which was the new wedding band that sat beside Astoria's large engagement diamond, Pansy closed the distance between them before she could change her mind.

Her hands found Astoria's waist immediately, fingertips gliding over her lace covered hips as she pulled the witch to her before their mouths found each other.

The kiss wasn't sweet, nor kind. It wasn't full of promise and hope, but it was everything Pansy felt for her. The resounding love that had built up over the years. The burning desire. And most importantly, the longing she felt because she knew Astoria would never be hers again.

Astoria acted in kind, her thin arms winding around Pansy's shoulders, fingers sliding into her hair, ruining the carefully straightened bob she'd charmed before arriving at the wedding. Pansy felt the push of Astoria's breasts against her own as their bodies melded together.

Her tongue swept into Astoria's mouth, sampling the sweet taste of her one last time. Her hands moved over her hips to her lower back and her fingertips dared to dip lower, brushing across the soft swell of her backside.

She'd never planned on falling for Astoria the way she had, but now that the reality of what they felt for one another was laid bare before both of them, Pansy wasn't sure she would ever be able to move on.

Their kiss ended just as it began. Abruptly, leaving both wanting more than they could afford to give at the moment. Pansy pressed her forehead into Astoria's as her hand lifted to stroke over her honey brown curls, careful not to mess up her carefully styled hair. "I love you too, Petal." She whispered, her lips brushing softly across Astoria's as she spoke. "I love you so much…"

"This doesn't have to be the end, Pansy." Astoria pleaded as she brushed her fingers across Pansy's collarbone, her index finger tracing the thin strap of her gown. "It's _can't_ be the end. I-I have to marry him—I didn't have a choice. You know my family better than anyone else. But my heart isn't _his_, Pansy. It never was, and it never will be. He may have my name on paper, but you—and you alone— have my heart, Pansy."

Pansy dropped her hand from Astoria's hair and she captured her hand. She ran her thumb across her knuckles, stroking tenderly at the supple flesh before she nudged the band around her finger. She wanted so badly to believe her. That Astoria would forever belong to her and her alone, but the symbol of love on her hand was hard to ignore.

"I…I don't want to share you, Astoria." Pansy admitted in a soft breath. "I can't."

"And you won't have to. We can go away—trips abroad. To Amsterdam and Paris. We can still have that little cottage in Nice, and summer in Ibza. We can still be together, Pansy. I am not ready to end this…I can't be without you."

"But while we're here?" Pansy slowly dropped her hold on Astoria's hand and she took a step back, letting her fingertips trail across her arm as she put some much needed space between them. What Astoria spoke of wasn't some simple little affair. She spoke of having a complete other life with her. One where they _had_ a life together, but how could that be juggled with her obligations to her husband? To her family? It would be near impossible.

"While we're here nothing will change. I will still see you. I will come stay the night as often as I can. I will still be yours."

"But you'll come home to _him._" Pansy's eyes closed and she brought her hand up to push through her black locks, tucking them behind her ear. "Astoria…I want this. I want it more than you realise, but…will this be enough? Having me in secret? Because I'm going to be honest, I'm not sure if it is for me."

"Of course it won't be enough Pansy, but it will have to be…for now." Astoria reached out and took Pansy's hand in hers, slowly lacing their fingers together. "But we can make it work…make _us_ work."

There was a silver lining of hope in Astoria's voice that made Pansy's heart shudder at the promise of more. Pansy knew it was a long shot, making them work was not going to be easy. There were obligations both would need to fulfill in their lives. Pansy to her family and Astoria to her husband, but Merlin help her if she didn't want to at least try.

"Okay." The word was whispered, lingering in the air between them. A promise of love, and yet so much more. A promise that no matter what may come following this night, that both of them would try to figure out how to navigate the complexities of their relationship.

Astoria's smile widened, and she closed the distance between them, pressing a kiss into her lips as she lifted her hand to cup Pansy's cheek.

Pansy's free hand returned to Astoria's waist, guiding her witch back towards her as they shared another moment hidden away from the rest of the party.

But the moment was brief. Far shorter than Pansy wanted, for just as Pansy angled her mouth against her lovers, the sound of a familiar voice calling for the bride echoed into the room.

Astoria let out an irritated sigh against her lips, her hand dropping from Pansy's face to her side lifelessly as she broke their caress. She glanced over her shoulder to the door before looking back up to Pansy, hazel eyes full of regret. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay." Pansy lied, letting her fingers slide across the curve of her side as she forced a sympathetic smile that let Astoria know she understood why she had to leave. After all, it was her wedding night, and Draco was likely not done showing off his bride. Pansy knew that if she were in his shoes, she would only want to do the same. "Go." Pansy encourage when Draco's call grew louder. "I love you."

"I love you too." Astoria said as her lips pulled up in a soft smile. She cast one more glance over her shoulder to the door before looking back to Pansy, pulling her down for one last kiss. "Tomorrow?"

The question sent a thrill down Pansy's spine, and although her immediate impulse to respond with a resounding yes danced on her tongue, she kept a wall erected around her heart, afraid to give too much too soon. "He'll let you go?"

"He won't have a choice." Astoria hand slipped from Pansy's, her fingers ghosting over her palm as she moved backwards towards the door, the soft click of her heels echoing around the room as she moved. Hazel eyes bore into hers, the bride refusing to drop her gaze until Pansy confirmed that she would accept her company tomorrow with a single nod of the head.

"Good." Astoria bit her bottom lip as her eyes traveled over Pansy's form one last time before she finally turned and left the room, carefully closing the door behind her as to not give any indication that anyone else lay inside Lucius' study.

Pansy let out a heavy breath as she leaned back on the desk, her fingernails clacking against the wood as she drummed her fingers on its surface. She was hopeless. No good was going to come of this affair that seemed destined to go on forever. Pansy knew she would never tire of the witch, and from what it seemed, Astoria was not willing to part with the comfort and love they provided one another.

Her hand slipped across the desk and she picked up her clutch. Blindly she unzipped the purse and withdrew a small tub of Vitoria's Smearproof Lipstain. Moving from the desk, she crossed the room towards a small bar cart Lucius had tucked in the corner, and Pansy used the silver serving tray to check her reflection. She reapplied a thin layer of her lip stain before primping her hair back into submission.

While she was certain no one would be waiting in the hallway when she exited, she wanted to make sure that _if_ she did run into a guest, that her appearance would not raise any eyebrows.

After waiting several minutes, Pansy exited the study and moved down the hallway towards the Manor doors at a much more leisurely pace than before.

There was almost a lightness to her step as she moved out into the spring night, the slight chill in the air wrapping around her bare shoulders and back as she moved down the stone steps that lead to the gravel path.

With only the moon providing her light as she moved towards the Apparition point at the Manor gates, Pansy let her fingertips trail across the bushes. The distant sounds of the wedding celebration could be heard, the faint clink of glasses, laughter and the fading string quartet. They should have given her pause, stoped her mind from wandering to thoughts of her future with the newly christened Mrs Malfoy, but Pansy couldn't bring herself to care.

Astoria had been hers long before she was promised to Draco, and while Pansy held some reservations about the continued affair, she doubted they would ever be enough to keep her from Astoria. It was clear—now more than ever, that they were meant to be. That the fates had brought them together.

Which is why, as Pansy moved down the gravel walkway, she vowed to never put her love through the pain she'd felt tonight.

Pansy would never marry.

And she'd never take another lover. How could she when her heart belonged to the witch? She knew the moments they shared would be rare. Like little diamonds hidden beneath the earth's surface, but she would keep the stolen moments close to her heart. She'd use those memories to make it through the lonely days without Astoria by her side.

But the nights?

The nights were where they would be with each other once more. The moon would act like a beacon, calling Astoria back to her arms where the witch belonged, and the stars would paint the sky, forever twinkling the hidden mysteries of their forbidden love.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Sing-Me-A-Rare Volume 4. Much love to my Beta and Alpha who shall remain nameless for the moment.


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